


Nicole's Past

by Reillysheart



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Child Abuse, Coming of Age, Coping, Existential Angst, F/F, Families of Choice, Fights, New Beginnings, Parent-Child Relationship, adult child of alcoholic, police officer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-25 20:44:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12043926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reillysheart/pseuds/Reillysheart
Summary: Setting: Purgatory General Hospital/ Nicole Haught's HomeTakes place after Season 2 Episode 10 (but before ep. 11)Exploring Nicole Haught's back story





	1. Chapter 1: Nicole's Past

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing ANYTHING. I've never written any piece of fiction (Fan or otherwise), but I was compelled to fill-in Nicole Haught's background. This is only one of the many possibilities that could be behind Nicole Haught's character. Please enjoy it, and I welcome your comments.

Chapter 1

The right side of her head ached from when the woman in black, Mercedes, but not Mercedes, had slammed her head into the hardwood floor. Her side, sore from where she had been kicked, made moving fast challenging. Her memory of that afternoon in her house was blurred by other memories of searing pain from the bite wound in her arm that spread the toxic poison through her veins, bringing her so close to death. If it hadn’t been for Waverly, mighty Waverly, with her fighting sticks, she might have been killed, beaten to death right there for something she did not even have. Her inability to defend herself infuriated her. The strength of her opponent had seemed beyond the ordinary strength of even a strong woman much less someone as slender as this individual dressed in . . . Victorian garb? Nicole shook her head, the fogginess in her brain was causing her to remember details that didn’t make any sense. The effects of concussion would take longer to heal, there was no antidote for that injury. “Mercedes” had caught her completely by surprise. She had thought, hoped, that it was Waverly at the door. She longed for her forgiveness so much that she had forgotten her academy training -- never open the door without checking to see who is on the other side of it. A stupid, rookie mistake. She knew better.

These last few months had brought Nicole more than her fair share of bruises and physical peril. Becoming involved in the lives of the Earp sisters, though it satisfied her thirst for adventure and her need for a distraction from her own issues, brought challenges that led to risky behavior. Ironically, she had believed becoming a well-trained police officer would enable her to avoid getting hurt. She would, for once, be able to shield herself and others from those who have a sadistic need to hurt people for their own selfish motives. She thought she had escaped that kind of violence in her own home, a haven that she had created in Purgatory, far away from the town she was raised in by parents who resented her presence for as long as she could remember.  That is why Waverly’s forgiveness is so important to her. Waverly is the closest thing to family that she has. If she loses her, then she will be alone again. She knew she would survive without Waverly’s love, but her life would go back to an emptiness she had known all too well for too long.

Shae didn’t really count. Nicole had impulsively married her to find some sense of mooring in a world of no connections. When she met Shae in Vegas -- gambling, dancing, drinking -- she believed Shae was the most exciting, beautiful woman she had ever met. Shae seemed so light-hearted, so intelligent, so free of complications, except maybe a commitment to medical school, which came with its own challenges for their relationship. She believed Shae would make her forget where she had come from. Shae saw Nicole differently than anyone had ever seen her. Shae saw her as strong, capable, daring, even brave. That was the person Nicole wanted to be, the one she needed to be to forget who she had always been.  When Shae came to her aid after she had fallen from the sheer edge at Red Rock Canyon and injured her shoulder, Nicole felt she must have married the right person, someone who would care if she lived or died, someone who was nothing like the people to whom she was related by blood. But her connection to Shae was based on need and a fantasy of a better life rather than a true and mutual bond. Shae didn’t need her, and Nicole needed to be needed. Grateful to Shae for coming while she was near death in the hospital, Nicole was relieved that Shae had left again when she realized she would pull through. She didn’t want to have to explain everything to Waverly just yet. As an Earp sister, dealing with the curse, and always watching out for her sister, Wynonna, Waverly had enough to worry about without having to hear about Nicole’s past.

Though she winced from the pain that still lingered from the attack, Nicole managed to smile when the nurse walked in to check on her in her hospital room. Nicole was an expert at hiding her own pain so that she could help others deal with their challenges. She preferred it that way.

“How is your pain level today?”

Nicole smiled through gritted teeth as she answered, “I’m good. When can I get out of here? I have paperwork to catch up on, and I need to get back to work.”

She wanted to get out of this fucking hospital bed and get back to the station. Nedley would need her; there weren’t many deputies in this small, remote town of Purgatory that he could rely on if she were away too long, and he would have had to deal with taking care of her cat in addition to handling her share of the work while she was holed up in here. She had had enough of this immobility which caused her only to dwell on details she’d rather shove back into that compartment she thought she had filed away under “shit I never want to think about again” in that file cabinet corner of her brain. She was adept at compartmentalizing, a skill that comes in handy for police officers. Controlling one’s emotions, being able to stay calm under pressure, was necessary for any good cop. She had learned to compartmentalize at a young age because she had to, to hide what was going on at home.

The nurse’s curt reply was not what Nicole wanted to hear, “The doctor is the only one who can release you, and he won’t be in for a while. He’s in surgery.”  Nicole’s smile faded.

Nurse Jamie tried again, “so how is your head?” She poked Nicole’s temple to assess the hematoma and make sure there was no additional swelling.

“Ow,” Nicole winced, “I’m fine as long as you don’t go poking around up there!” Her surliness was not directed at Jamie; she just hated to be in hospitals.

“This isn’t your first concussion, is it?” Jamie inquired, knowing very well from having read Nicole’s chart history that this was not even Nicole’s first concussion since arriving in Purgatory.

“No,” replied Nicole, “but my job sometimes gets a little rough.”

The chart had revealed a history that one would never be able to tell by just looking at Officer Haught. She was tall and sturdy, despite being slender, and fit, like she had been an athlete since a young age. Her strong muscles and smooth skin belied her chart, which showed evidence of numerous injuries dating back to when Nicole had been quite young, well before her time as an officer. The injuries were old ones but a body has ways of recording the past. Broken collarbone, hairline fracture of the tailbone, scar tissue in several places on her legs and arms, broken finger bones, evidence of cracked ribs, old defensive wounds, and a two-inch scar on her shoulder blade was barely visible now, but it was not the only scar on her body. She had the slightest indentation, a curved scar, on her right temple that most would never notice because her brown eyes were so arresting, deep pools of soulful eyes that distracted people from the scars that existed there on her face.

“I’m a sheriff’s deputy,” Nicole added, to explain the “rough” aspect of her job.

 “I have great respect for law enforcement,” said Jamie. “I appreciate the hard work you do to keep us safe.” These words bolstered Nicole’s feelings, and she smiled quietly. One thing she was proud of was her career as an officer. She loved the respect the job engendered in others. She did her job well to deserve the respect she enjoyed from the citizens of Purgatory.

Nurse Jamie added in an authoritative voice, “Nicole, I’m going to administer pain meds to help you relax and sleep. You need rest to help you heal, which will help you get out of here faster. We need you back on the job!” Jamie knew that if she didn’t somehow link the meds to Nicole’s getting out of the hospital, Ms. Haught would probably fight her on taking her meds. This time, it worked; Nicole didn’t argue as the nurse used a syringe to inject the meds into her IV line. It wasn’t long before Nicole felt the drowsiness upon her; it would be good to sleep.

****

In the dream, Nicole was walking home from school. This was a dream, wasn’t it? She stopped to shove her graded test back into her backpack. She had earned 100% on her civics exam, and her teacher had written “Excellent critical thinking and reasoning, Nicole!” on her paper. Even at age 13, Nicole was more interested in the opinions of her mentors than her friends. She liked hanging out with adults more than she did kids her own age. Adults had interesting experiences to talk about, and she found it comforting to be with people who seemed more . . . in control. In fact, Nicole didn’t really have anyone she could call a true friend, someone she could confide in. It wasn’t that she was not liked by others. She had many acquaintances at school, and for the most part, her classmates just left her alone. They knew not to make fun of her; she was taller and tougher than even the oldest boys in her class.  She was liked because she was good at basketball, and everyone who played wanted her on their team. She was good at it.  She often spent most of her time outside of school either in her room working on homework or out on the neighborhood courts, working on her layups and 3 pointer shots. She had always had a sort of discipline to her actions. She never wanted to just hang around home. Her parents’ house was usually not a good place to be.

Today, because of the test and her teacher’s praise, she was in a particularly good mood. She was even hurrying home to tell her mom about her test. Maybe this time her mom would be awake and aware enough to be pleased. She skipped up the front steps and burst through the front door, which was unlocked. Instantly, she wished she had just hit the courts after school instead of coming home.

Standing across the living room were her parents. Her father, a tall, swarthy man, had a grip on her mother’s slim arm, and he was berating her for something.

“You’re such a pain in the ass! Why can’t you just clean up after yourself? The kitchen is a mess, and the food was fucking garbage. Why do I even keep you around here? You just suck up all the money I make and waste it on whatever the hell. . . .”

Her mother seemed to shrink under the weight of his words and intense loathing. She did not say a word; she just stood with mist in her eyes and turned her contorted face away. The man raised his arm as if to strike her across the face but found his forearm gripped tightly by his own daughter, who, as quick as a shot, had dropped her backpack and sprung from behind him to grab his arm before he could make contact with her mother’s face, which was already showing some bruising that hadn’t been there that morning. As quickly as she had grabbed his arm, Nicole found herself flung backward in the air and onto the floor. She had managed to deflect his attention from her mother, but now he focused his hatred on her.

“You little Bitch! Get the fuck away from me!” He kicked her in the side with a force that took her breath from her. She scrambled to regain her feet below her. She needed to get up to have any chance against him. He smelled of cigarettes and booze, his usual stench. The smell made her nauseous. As she contended with her attacker, her mother ran into the kitchen. Her mother couldn’t watch as Nicole was beaten in her stead, but she felt too weak to stop him herself. What could she do? She immediately began to pick up the plates from the table and turned the water on full blast so that she could not fully hear what was going on in the other room. Her tears dropped into the dishwater as she sobbed silently while cleaning.

In the living room, Nicole managed to stand and face her father. He was raging now, screaming at her and trying to grab her arm. She was quick, though, and slipped away. His speed was lightning swift. He grabbed her left arm and swung her around so that her back was pressed against his torso. He pinned her arm up against her chest so that she couldn’t move and spoke roughly in her ear so that she could feel his breath in her red hair, “You think you can take me? You think you can hurt me? You all grown up now?” As he said this, he grabbed her right breast and squeezed it tightly. His hands were so strong and big. Her strength was no match for his. “You little cunt. Don’t you ever touch me again. You are nothing but a piece of dyke trash I’ve kept around because of your mother. You are nothing like me. In fact, you are probably not mine at all.” Nicole tried to twist from his grip. She slithered down to try to release herself. He only seemed to grip her arm more tightly. “I’m going to give you 10 seconds to get the hell out of my sight before I mess you up like you can’t even imagine.”

He threw her arm down and shoved her away. She covered her wrist where he had held it. It burned from the twisting. She limped toward her backpack and the door. Her side ached from having been kicked. As she picked up her bag, he turned and yelled into the kitchen, “Where’s my drink?”

Nicole didn’t stay around to challenge the monster any further. She had stopped him from hurting her mom, but she needed to be outside, to breathe some air. She knew that her mother would bring him the booze and placate him until he calmed down. She wanted to be as far away from him as she could get. She slammed the screen door accidentally on her way out the door and down the front porch steps. She hurried across the small front yard and around the chain link fence bordering the property. She needed to get as far away as possible. She ran, crying as she ran, with a rage inside that would not be quelled for years, until she was able to get away from them for good. 

***

In her hospital bed, Nicole was squirming in her sleep, whimpering, and turning her head now and then from side to side. Waverly had been at her side for about twenty minutes when she noticed Nicole’s movement. She appeared to be having a nightmare. She softly took Nicole’s hand and spoke gently in her ear, “It’s ok, Nicole, I’m here with you. You’re safe. “Mercedes” is in custody. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

When she opened her eyes, Nicole had difficulty at first focusing on who was in front of her, she wrenched her hand away from . . . Waverly! “Waverly?” she wondered aloud.

“Yes, silly, it’s me,” Waverly said. “Are you ok? How are you feeling?” she reached for Nicole’s hand again, and this time, Nicole freely gave it to her. She felt the soft skin of Waverly’s palm in hers, and she felt instantly at ease. It had been many days since she had felt this affection from Waverly. She didn’t know if Waverly had yet forgiven her for keeping the DNA test results from her, a stupid mistake. In fact, the last she remembered hearing from Waverly was when she had sent Nicole a scathing text. But then it occurred to her that Waverly was the reason she was still here at all. Waverly had stopped “Mercedes” from killing her.

“Thank you,” Nicole whispered. “For what?” Waverly asked. “For stopping “Mercedes!” Nicole replied, “You were amazing—like a freaking Ninja with those sticks!” This caused Waverly to visibly blush. She had a secret pride in her skills with the batons. “I’m just glad I got there when I did. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, and you were the one who rescued me from that black widow.”

Nicole was the one to blush then. Her feelings for Waverly had grown quite deep over the last eight months that they had been together. She had made up her mind to be by her side through the worst of the Earp curse, and she wanted to keep that promise to Waverly.

Again, Waverly inquired, “How are you doing?”

Nicole straightened up so that she was sitting upright and against her pillow. “I’m really fine. . . a little sore, but I am ready to get out of here and get back to work with you and Black Badge.”

***

“Has the doctor said you could go home?” Waverly was eager to hear that Nicole had been given permission to leave. She wanted her out of here and comfortable in her own home again. She had gone to Ikea and replaced the coffee table that had been smashed when “Mercedes” had thrown her across the room. She wanted the place to be back in order and just like her home had never been invaded. Nicole was so good to everyone else, protecting them all the time from demons and crime. She deserved a safe haven to return to when she was released from care.

Waverly had had time to think deeply about Nicole’s part in hiding the DNA evidence from her. She realized after coming so damned close to losing her that nothing was more important than Nicole’s life. She had been right. Some lies _are_ a kindness. In the end, she believed that kindness had been Nicole’s motivation in hiding the results from her. Nicole had never done anything before or since that suggested she wanted to control or hurt Waverly. Reason, though it came late and after some unthinking actions on her own part – like kissing Rosita--, suggested to Waverly that she had jumped to conclusions, and then in her sadness and hurt over the results of the test, she had taken it out on the one person who had promised to be by her side throughout the journey to find out the truth. It was time for her and Nicole to strive to be on the same page again.

“The doctor came by this morning and said he would be signing the release papers,” said Nicole. “I just have to wait to see the nurse one more time to make sure he did it.”  Seemingly right on cue, Nurse Jamie came into the room to give Nicole the good news that the doctor had said if she rested at home for a couple of days, getting sleep and not returning to duty until the effects of the concussion had receded, she could leave the hospital. Of course, she would have to be wheeled out in a wheelchair as per hospital policy and driven home by a friend or family member -- no arguments!

“Yes, Ma’am,” answered Nicole. She wasn’t going to argue with that. She still felt a little sore and wobbly, so she didn’t feel quite 100% just yet. “Uh, Waves?”

“Uh, huh?” replied Waverly.

“Would you be able to drive me home? I’m not sure how I got here, but I don’t think it was in the cruiser.”

“I would be happy to take you home, as long as you let me take care of you for a couple of days to make sure my baby is truly ok and rested,” Waverly replied, smiling but also using her firmest I-am-in-charge-now voice to let Nicole know that she would be watching to make sure Nicole didn’t just jump back to work too soon.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Do you think we could stop by _Scoop to Scoop_ to get some ice cream on the way home? I could really go for some chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in a waffle cone right about now!”

“I guess your appetite is coming back!” Waverly sang.  After Nicole was dressed, which took a few minutes because Nicole was moving slowly and a bit gingerly due to her injuries which were still healing, Waverly took Nicole’s right arm to help her up as Nurse Jamie took the left arm to help Nicole into the wheelchair. “You guys! I can do this myself! I am not an old lady! I’m fine!” Nicole did not like being assisted quite this much. She _was_ fine, and she wanted Waverly to know it.

“Remember, I said ‘no arguments!’ “Jamie admonished Nicole.

Without another word, but with a scrunched nose and a roll of the eyes, Nicole sat in the wheelchair to be wheeled down to the hospital lobby. Waverly ran ahead to bring the Jeep around to the front of the hospital so that Nicole would not have to walk far to get into the car. It was still cold out, snow still covered the ground in many places in Purgatory. Waverly pulled up and got out to open the passenger door. She helped Nicole into the Jeep, placed some blankets on her lap and over her chest.

“I’m not the one who needs four blankets plus a bonus blanket, remember?” teased Nicole. Still, it felt good to be pampered a little.

“I just want you to be comfortable and warm,” reassured Waverly. She got behind the wheel and they sped off toward _Scoop to Scoop_ and then to Nicole’s home.


	2. Chapter 2: Nicole's Past

It occurred to Nicole that she was tired of failure. She had failed to stop the widow from attacking her, from attacking Waverly. She had failed in her marriage with Shae. She, most of all, had failed to protect her mother from the monster that was her father. She never focused on all the successes she had had – top of her class in the academy, being recruited to Purgatory right out of the academy, thwarting Tucker Gardner from the possible rape of a young woman. Because she strove always for perfection, she reasoned that these successes were just part of her job. But when she failed, she felt that deep sense of frustration and shame acutely.

She had spent her adolescence trying to save her mother – from the beatings and immediate physical danger, yes, that was a daily worry, but more importantly, from feeling unworthy of being saved. Naomi somehow believed she deserved the life she had with Earl Haught. She couldn’t find the strength to stand up to him, to fight back, to leave and find a life without him. Her mother had always tied her self-worth to whether she pleased her husband. 

Nicole spent most of her time with her mother either cleaning her up after he had abused her, or making sure she ate and slept and took care of herself enough to withstand those battles. As a teen, when they were alone, Nicole pleaded with her mother to leave him; “Mom, we have to get out of here. We have to get away from him. He won’t stop. He never has. He doesn’t love us. He treats us like we are trash that he can just stomp on and throw away. Can’t you see that life will be better without him? I will help you. . .  I will take care of you, but we just have to leave and never come back here. You have to trust me. We can do this.”

“Honey, I can’t.” Her mother would say resignedly. “I can’t just leave your father. Who will take care of him? He needs me just as much as we need him. I can’t leave him. I love him.” Nicole did not understand.

“How can you say that?” Nicole would look at her mother, horrified that her mother had any feelings for that man, that demon who had done nothing but make their lives a living hell. “I don’t need him, mother. I have never _needed_ him. He has done nothing but hurt us since I can remember.” If I were old enough, I would be out of here in a flat minute!”

She loathed her father more than any other human she had ever met. The only reason she had not run away before now was that she could not leave her mother alone to face him. She knew, even at age 13, that he would eventually kill her mother if no one was there to protect her. It became her job to protect her mother.  It didn’t matter that there was no one there to protect Nicole. She knew she was just stronger than her mother, not physically, maybe, but mentally. She understood that her mother was worthy of a life not lived in fear and self-deprecating loneliness. But no matter how hard she pleaded or fought, Nicole could not get her mother to leave. Her mother started taking prescription drugs to dull the pain and take her mind off her inadequacy. The more Naomi acquiesced to Earl, the more she needed the painkillers, and the more she spent time in bed, sleeping the day away while Nicole was at school and Earl at work. When he came home, sometimes already drunk from having a few beers with the boys at the local bar after work, Naomi would be up but not have done any of the housework that Earl expected of her, and that began the cycle all over again.

As Nicole matured into a young adult, her father treated not only her mother but her with even more violence. He hated that Nicole was a lesbian. His knowledge of gay people was an amalgamation of all the worst stereotypes. He would tell her she just needed to be less tomboyish—"act like a girl, for Christ sakes!”  She just needed the right man to “show her a good time—to open up those legs of hers and take charge.” She became increasingly frightened that Earl would take it upon himself to show her. He was not above the occasional ass or crotch grab to make his point more emphatic. Her mom would suggest to her that maybe her dad had a point. “Have you even tried dating boys?” she would ask Nicole when they were alone. It felt like a betrayal whenever Naomi took Earl’s side in this argument. Nicole realized that her mother just wasn’t strong enough to battle societal expectations _and_ Earl. Eventually, Nicole had to make the terrible decision to save herself since her mother would not. She had to leave. She ran away the day after high school commencement, three months after her 18 th birthday.

 

Now, as an adult on her own, Nicole looked back on her more recent past and felt she needed a win. She had been able to find her own path, far from her parents and her hometown. At first, she would call her mom to make sure she was ok, but her mom would pick up the phone less and less when Nicole called until she stopped answering her calls altogether. Nicole felt she had failed her mother in saving herself. She needed to be able to conquer her fears of letting down those closest to her.

After she left home, Nicole was not used to a more normal daily life of going to work, then home, then bed, and back to work. She found various part-time jobs -- shelving books at the library, afternoon/evening security monitor at a local mall. She had fought her way through life since she had been a kid. A sense of peril was hardwired into her brain. Now she sought out the challenges of survival in more constructive forms. She did daring things to get that sense of control. She took up rock climbing because she liked the feeling of control and danger, gripping the ledges when her life depended on it. She occasionally went to a lesbian bar in town to find companionship, but she spent most of her time alone. She was used to it, and she didn’t have to explain herself to anyone. She was fine with that. ~~~~

Now that Nicole was home from Purgatory hospital after almost dying, she saw the need to eventually tell Waverly about Shae and the marriage, but there never seemed to be a good time. The widows were still out there—they had the third seal! Wynonna was about to pop that baby out, and Waverly was dealing with not knowing who she really is. Now was not the time to share her own issues with Waverly. She would find the right time when they were through the danger and everyone was safe. Now she needed to concentrate on gaining strength so that she could protect Waverly and get back to being Nedley’s most trusted deputy. She needed to help Dolls, Doc, and Jeremy with Black Badge.

***

On that first night home from the hospital, Nicole felt well cared for. As Waverly cleared the table from the delicious dinner she had cooked for Nicole, insisting on doing the dishes by herself because Nicole “needed her rest,” Nicole walked out onto her front porch to get a breath of fresh air. It seemed like weeks since she had been able to breathe. The sun had already gone down and the Waning Gibbous moon rose over Purgatory. Clouds, lots of them, floated across the sky, some light, some dark. The sky seemed so big over Purgatory.  The moonlight, reflected in the white snow, created a sort of glow on the underside of the clouds. In between the clouds, she could see the blanket of stars that remained above the clouds – the beauty was stunning! It felt so good to be able to witness Nature’s inherent wonder again.

Waverly came out onto the porch after finishing in the kitchen. She brought a quilt from the top of the couch in the living room and sat down on the top step of the stairs of the porch next to Nicole. She wrapped the quilt around Nicole’s shoulders and her own so that they were enveloped in a quilted cocoon. “Here,” she said, “You need to keep warm. We don’t need you to get sick from the cold on top of it all.”

“Thanks,” Nicole replied. Their breath came out into the crisp night as little steam puffs. “You are so good to me, Waves.”

“I want to do these things for you. For once, you deserve to be cared for; you are so important to me,” Waverly emphasized, making direct eye contact to make sure Nicole understood her sincerity.

Nicole smiled, “I was just thinking the same thing about you!”

Their foreheads came gently together, and they stared into each other’s eyes. It seemed there was nobody else in the wide world. They kissed, their lips connecting softly; they held the kiss for a long moment before letting go for a breath. Waverly smiled so brightly. “Did you see Orion, there, between those two big clouds? It’s one of my favorite constellations. It reminds me of you, so tall, with its belt and sword, ready to take on the battle with any enemy to protect us.”

Nicole blushed and looked up at Orion. It was one of her favorites, too. She was so glad that Waverly saw her this way – the way she wanted to be rather than the mere flawed mortal she knew was the truth.

“I’m so happy you are here with me,” Waverly added. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Nicole asked.

“For saving me from ‘Mercedes.’ If you hadn’t ripped her away from me, I would have been her next victim. You wouldn’t have been bitten if it hadn’t been for me not being able to fight her off!” She sobered at the thought. “I could not have lived with the guilt of losing you while you were protecting me.” Her eyes, filling with tears, gleamed in the porch light.

“Let’s just be happy that we both made it and are here together,” Nicole replied. “Waves, don’t you know that protecting you gives me purpose? I _want_ to help you!” Waverly lay her head on Nicole’s shoulder and squeezed her arm. They snuggled under the blanket, but Nicole’s lower lip began to quiver in the cold. The clouds had closed together, and the temperature had dropped. Soon, flakes of light snow blew around them like white confetti, glowing in the porch light.

“Come on,” Waverly said with resolve, standing up and gently pulling Nicole’s arms to make her stand. “Let’s get you to bed. You need sleep and rest, Dr.’s orders! I’ll get you all tucked in and then I’ll be back in the morning to make you eggs and waffles!”

“Oh, please don’t go,” exclaimed Nicole. “Please stay tonight. I need my human heater with me, Waves!” She really didn’t want Waverly to go. She wanted to curl up with her under the covers and feel her warm, lithe body next to hers again.

Waverly looked at Nicole with such warmth and affection. She really didn’t want to leave either, but she knew Nicole needed rest and she didn’t want to be a distraction from that. “As long as you promise you’ll sleep! You still need healing time.”

Nicole nodded assent.

“Ok,” Waverly added, “I’ll be your heat-Waves!” and Nicole laughed, rolling her eyes at the pun. They walked arm in arm through the front door and up the stairs to Nicole’s bedroom. They undressed and put on some tee-shirts that Nicole quickly pulled out of her chest of drawers, for pjs, and crawled into bed, pulling the sheets and blankets up to their necks. Waverly’s body fit perfectly into Nicole’s “spoon.” Nicole wrapped arms around Waverly’s waist, luxuriating in the silky feeling of skin on skin. She kissed Waverly on the top of her head and said, “Goodnight . . . I love you.”  She could hear Waverly’s lips draw back into a smile, “Goodnight, Nicole. I love you, too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Officer Haught - Snow Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Officer Haught's first day back on the job after being in the hospital.

A couple days’ rest with Waverly’s loving care strengthened Nicole physically, so she was ready for her first day back on the job. She had decided during that time not to get into any in-depth discussion of Shae or any other part of her past with Waverly, for she knew that would be emotionally taxing for both and, thus, delay her recovery. She needed to get back to work protecting and serving Purgatory.

Not that Waverly wasn’t curious. She told Nicole that she had met Shae in the hospital and knew about their marriage. In her concerned but not accusatory tone, Waverly conveyed that she wondered why Nicole had not told her. She also wanted Nicole to know that she could handle whatever Nicole had to say. 

In her kindest, most understanding voice, she said, “Nicole, as I’ve said before, I’m not a child – I don’t need you to make decisions for me. I just want to be an equal partner in our relationship. Just as I depend on you for support in my life, I want you to know that you can depend on me for support.”

“I do know that, Waves,” Nicole pleaded, “I just don’t have the energy yet to get into it. Rest assured, I will tell you when we don’t have the threat of widows and revenants hanging over us.”

Waverly reacted with incredulity, “Are you saying you won’t discuss Shae until all of the revenants are gone? Cuz, we don’t know how long that will take, Nicole. I don’t feel comfortable sleeping with a married woman!”

Nicole closed her eyes; shaking her head, she blurted, “Ok, ok! I understand. I’m sorry. Look, my marriage to Shae is over – and has been since before I met you. I will work on formally ending the marriage. I have divorce papers ready to file.” 

Waverly looked at her with a worried furrow in her brow while Nicole continued, “I know I should have told you, but it never seemed to be the right time. I have been just a little busy, fighting revenants alongside you and Wynonna; then there was Mikshun!” She looked down and pleaded, “Please, Waves, I don’t feel strong enough to continue this arguing between us.” She paused; then putting her right hand gently over Waverly’s hand and looking her directly in the eyes, she asked, “Do you trust me?”

Waverly gazed into Nicole’s eyes, hesitating to answer, but in the end, she had to admit that despite Nicole’s having kept crucial information from her, Waverly did trust her with her life. “Yes!” She exclaimed, “Yes, I do trust you. Of course, I do!”

“Thank you,” Nicole sighed with relief. “I promise I will tell you all about it when time allows and I’m emotionally ready to rehash the past.”

Fortunately, Waverly seemed content with Nicole’s promise of a future discussion. Nicole knew it wasn’t fair to expect Waverly to tell her everything regarding her life and not share her own personal story. Up until now, Nicole had rationalized that they had not had the time or opportunity to get into her own issues because they were busy with the more immediate dangers faced by the Earps, but silently, she was relieved that she hadn’t had to tell Waverly about her past. More than anything, Nicole wanted Waverly to maintain her perception of her as a strong, capable, even noble force in her life. She didn’t want Waverly to know that sometimes, she was none of those things. She wondered, if Waverly knew about me, all of it, would she even want to be with me?

She had failed in her marriage to Shae, she had abandoned her mother to a heinous man to save herself. These were not the makings of a noble person. She would rather have her colleagues, friends, even Waverly believe she was strong and worthy of their trust and friendship, even when she didn’t sometimes feel she deserved it.

 

That day, at the station, Nicole was easing her way back into full duty. The day had been mostly slow, catching up on paperwork, a deep pile of files Nedley had plopped onto her desk as a greeting. “Welcome back! We missed you. I need you to get through these as quickly as possible.”

“Thanks?” Nicole replied with a bit of sarcasm. Then more sincerely, “I appreciate your taking care of my cat while I was unable to.” 

“Oh, uh,” Nedley stammered, “Yeah, no problem. She seemed to like her new scratching post.” Nicole smiled gratefully. He turned and went into his office, leaving Nicole to climb the mountain of paperwork, answer calls, and handle the desk all alone. “Yep, I’m back!” she declared sarcastically with a crooked smile.

The day went by more slowly than she had anticipated. She had been able to spend time with Waverly in her few days of recovery, so she missed her now. Dolls had assigned Waverly to researching the widows, so she was at the homestead, digging for information in her files at home.

Besides Harley calling to complain that his car had been towed when it shouldn’t have been and Mrs. Hopewell calling to report that she was tired of racoons getting into her garbage and “what were ‘Purgatory’s finest’ going to do about it?” the day was filled with pouring over paperwork. Nicole was just about to grab some more caffeine to get through the rest of the afternoon when Nedley came back from his afternoon trip to Shorty’s. Her shift would be ending in another half hour, so she started to straighten up her desk and show she was ready to go home. 

Nedley caught the phone as he was walking toward his office. “Yes, what do you wish to report?” . . .” Hmm, Baily’s Pass, you say? Ok, I’ll send an officer to check it out.” As he replaced the receiver into its cradle, he turned to Nicole and asked, “Nicole, I know you are about to leave, but since Baily’s Pass is on your way home, could you check out this report of suspicious activity near Hwy 3 and Turner Road?”

Nicole responded, “I’m on it!” She was happy to have some real police work to attend to. Nedley informed her that a Mrs. Hanson had reported seeing a trail of footprints off road that led into the woods, but no return set of footprints, suggesting that the person might have gotten lost or hadn’t returned yet. “It’s getting late. Check it out.”

Nicole grabbed her coat and hat and swung her gun belt around her waist as she rounded the doorway into the corridor. The cruiser was parked just outside the station doors. It would take twenty minutes to get to Turner Road, but if she used her lights, she could speed her way there in twelve to fifteen minutes.

The trip there was quick. She was glad to see it was still quite light out despite the hour. She didn’t relish being out in the snowy woods after sunset.

 

Officer Haught followed what looked like a set of medium -sized boot prints into the snow and wished she had brought her snow shoes with her from the cruiser she had left parked on the road. It was slow going without them, and every once in a while, when she placed her boot onto the path, her leg would sink into the freezing snow up to her knee creating a deep hole in the snow. Her uniform pants were soaking from those slips into the icy whiteness, and she didn’t have her snow pants in the trunk of the patrol car to change into. 

She thought today would be like most other days, mostly paperwork, and the rustling of a few drunks into the drunk tank to sleep it off. But this call from Mrs. Hanson was worrisome. Was someone stuck in the woods in these freezing temperatures? Were there revenants up to no good out there?

Nedley had told Mrs. Hanson that an officer would check it out, and Nicole wanted to get there before the sun got any lower in the sky. The air was crisp and clean, not a cloud in the sky, which meant that the temperatures would be at their coldest. The night would bring plummeting temps that would be hard for anyone ill-equipped to survive. Nicole was glad that she had worn her puffy down jacket over her uniform shirt and had the forethought to remember her gloves and hat, and she had an emergency blanket packed into the pocket of her uniform shirt. She hoped she would find this “person” soon, for the thought of being out here after dark made her nervous.

The air was crisp and caused her nose and ears to turn bright red while making her nose run and her eyes fill with tears from the slight breeze in her face. The deeper into the woods she tromped, the quieter it was. The only sounds were her own boots crunching in the snow. Occasionally, a branch would rustle -- a bird looking for food, or a squirrel making its way from tree to tree across the branches. The pristine beauty of the mountain range rising up ahead was one of the elements she loved most about living in and around Purgatory. 

Suddenly, a piercing cry rang out ahead. Haught unsnapped the holster carrying her revolver, and she went into high alert mode, hand on her gun, ready to draw if she must. She could not see the source of the sound, nor could she tell if the sound was human or animal. It was the sound of something desperate, something hurt. 

A few more steps brought her the reason. Crimson blood dotted the white snow up ahead. It seemed to be heading north—deeper into the thickening trees. The “path” became harder to detect as she went deeper into the woods. She could still see some of the boot prints, but they seemed fewer and farther between, sporadic, mixed with deeper, bigger holes in the snow. 

She was getting quite nervous about being out here alone. She knew her radio would not work way out here. Should she turn back now, call Nedley from the highway road, and get backup? It would take twenty minutes moving at a semi-run to get back to the car now. If this was someone, and they were hurt, she would not be able to forgive herself if she did not find them and they were trapped out here in the snow with no help at all. She moved cautiously forward.

“Hello?” she called out. “Is anybody there? Are you hurt? I am Purgatory Sherriff Deputy Haught. I am here to help you!” No answer. She could hear short but labored breathing ahead, behind a thick Ash trunk. “Show yourself!” she commanded, with a nervous edge to her voice. Nicole drew her revolver, and commanded, “Put your hands where I can see them!”   
No movement, no answer. “Identify yourself! I am a purgatory Sherriff’s deputy, come out with your hands on your head!”

Then, from behind the trunk of the tree, behind some sporadic branches, she saw something – she couldn’t quite see what—slump to the side of the tree, blood at the base of the tree in the snow. She rushed forward, gun still drawn, ready to fire.

When she came around to the side of the tree, she realized she was pointing her gun straight at a child! A boy, maybe 8 or 9 years old and a dog! The dog was lying next to the boy with its head in his lap, but the boy was slumped over next to the tree, clearly not able to respond. She holstered her weapon, hurried to him, and helped him to a sitting position against the trunk of the tree. She could see the blood dripping from his forehead, a surface wound—the head bleeds more profusely than other places on the body-- but he was holding his arm close to his body; it could be broken. “Are you ok? What is your name? I am Officer Haught. I am here to help you.” He looked up but seemed sleepy, and though he tried to speak, his words seemed slurred, and he was not able to communicate with any clarity. Hypothermia thought Nicole.

“That’s ok, I’m here now. I will get you home. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?” Nicole inquired, hoping for a little acknowledgment that he could tell she was with him.  
“Evan,” he murmured. She said, “Ok, Evan, come on. Come with me; I’ll get you out of here.” She reached into her pocket to grab the emergency blanket, to wrap it around the child. The dog, a black and white border collie, began to growl a low growl and bared his teeth at Nicole. “It’s ok, boy, I’m trying to help Evan.” 

She moved more slowly and, turning to the side, crouching so that the dog would not feel threatened, she took off her glove with her teeth and offered the back of one hand to the dog’s snout for scent. The dog sniffed her hand, briefly, licked it, and decided she was not a threat. He got up and danced beside her, tail wagging. She reached out and took hold of his collar to see if he could be identified. “’Oscar!’ Hello boy! What are you and Evan doing out here? How did Evan get hurt?” She wrapped the blanket around Evan’s shoulders tightly so that he would start to warm up as quickly as possible. She placed her arms underneath Evan’s legs, making a sort of cradle for him and managed to stand herself, stumbling to the side to get better footing. She knew it would be hard, but she would need to carry him back to the cruiser and get him to the nearest hospital. She hoped that he did not already suffer from frostbite on his fingers and toes.

She stepped forward, breathing heavily herself under the weight of the boy and taking such big steps in the snow. Every step was like climbing a hill. She tried not to show the worry on her face to Evan. She didn’t want to frighten him any further than he already was. Oscar periodically would run ahead on the snow, then turn around and come running back to bark at Nicole, as if to say “hurry up! It’s cold out here!”

Nicole periodically asked Evan, “how you doing? You ok?” but Evan could only manage to nod. He seemed to be in shock from the gash on his forehead and his injured arm.  
She hurried as fast as possible back the way she came, sometimes using the very steps on the path that she had cut into the snow while pursuing the trail of prints. She was perspiring from the heat of having to hurry and carry Evan the whole way. When she rounded the corner of the thicket of trees, she looked up and saw two figures coming across the snow toward them. The tears were in her eyes, making it hard to see who it was. Immediately, she turned to shield Evan from them.

“Hey Haught-shot! What the hell are you doing out here?” It was Wynonna and Doc! “Oh I’m just taking a nature walk, what do you think?” Nicole snapped back sarcastically but with a relieved grin on her face.

“Hey Doc, a little help here?” Nicole asked with urgency. Doc hurried forward and carefully took the boy from Nicole. 

Nicole couldn’t believe her luck in finding friends out on Baily Pass! “What are you two doing out here?”

“Hunting Revenants, what else?” retorted Wynonna. “We had a tip that Bobo was seen out this way and thought we’d take a look. When we saw your patrol car on the side of the road, and you weren’t in it, we were a little worried. Waverly would kill me if I let you get hurt by Bobo.”

“How far is it back to the road?”

“Only a few hundred yards now, around that thicket of Wichita Blue Junipers up yonder,” responded Doc. He was strong and careful with the child in his arms. He reached up and took his hat off and put it on Evan’s head. “It won’t be long now, cowboy.”

Oscar ran ahead as if he knew the way to the car, and the three friends hiked together across the deep winter landscape. “Do you need to get back to finding Bobo?” Nicole asked.   
“No, I need to fortify myself with whiskey as soon as possible at Shorty’s! Care to join us?”

“I need to get Evan to the hospital, but as soon as he’s safe, I will change my clothes and meet you there. Will Waverly be there?” Nicole asked hopefully.

“I’ll put out an APB on her and make sure she’s brought in for questioning, Officer, Haughtpants!” Wynonna quipped.

Nicole shook her head, but smiled because she looked forward to a relaxing night of beers with friends and a warm fire at Shorty’s. But mostly, she looked forward to Waverly’s smile and warm embrace. 

 

Nicole drove the cruiser with Evan beside her in the passenger seat, heat cranked up so that he would warm up on the way. Oscar pranced on the back seat behind them. Once they were on their way, Evan and the dog relaxed enough to fall asleep as she sped to the hospital. Something about Evan’s quietness made Nicole uneasy. She hadn’t been able to ascertain why he had been in the woods alone, except for Oscar.

Most boys Evan’s age would have at least one friend on such an expedition. Why had he been there alone? Why was his arm injured so badly? Why was he bleeding from his forehead?  
Of course, her own experiences while growing up made her mind immediately imagine foul play. Could Evan be a victim of just an accident on the trail, or was he running from someone? Was domestic violence involved? When she had radioed ahead to the hospital, she had asked for child services and delayed notifying Evan’s parents (as per procedure) so that she would have time to find out if any crime had been perpetrated. She didn’t want to just hand him over to someone, not knowing whether that someone was responsible for his injuries.

When she was younger, she was expert at making up stories that would explain her own injuries, inflicted on her by her father. “I twisted my ankle playing basketball,” she would tell her teachers. “I fell off my bike on the way to school.” Her stories were always plausible. Because of her precocious nature and height, she was a bit awkward physically and socially, so none suspected that she wasn’t just a bit accident prone. 

Her father had been respected at his job, and her mother kept to the home. How would anyone have known or even suspected the violence Nicole faced on a weekly, sometimes daily basis.

When she arrived at the hospital, she gently lifted Evan from the patrol car and carried him into Emergency. He opened his eyes as she placed him on the gurney, and their eyes locked. He was in pain from his fractured arm, but she thought she could see even beyond the physical pain to some mental anguish. 

“Evan,” she said, “Do you want me to call your parents and have them meet you here at the hospital? I have to call someone to come take care of you. Who do you want me to call?” Of course, the law required Nicole to inform a parent or guardian, but she wanted to find out who Evan trusted to take care of him.

“Do you have to call my mom and dad?” Evan asked. “I wasn’t supposed to be out there today, and I don’t want to get into trouble.” Worried, Nicole decided she had to ask, “Evan, has anyone hurt you? Did your mom or dad hurt you? What do your parents do when you are in trouble?”

Evan’s eyes widened, “What? No! I hurt my arm trying to climb a tree!” When Nicole didn’t speak, he continued, “I’m just afraid they won’t let me out with Oscar anymore by myself. They might even take away my X-Box because I went out without permission!”

Then, very worried, Evan exclaimed, “Where’s Oscar? Is he ok? Where’s Oscar?” Nicole, sensing truth in Evan’s tone and demeanor, felt relieved and responded, “He’s fine! He’s sleeping in my patrol car with the heater on. I will make sure he’s returned to your home safely. Ok? Can you give me your phone number so that I can reach your parents by phone? Evan, I’m glad to hear that no one is hurting you at home, but it’s my job to make sure, so I called a friend from social services who will interview you after you have been cared for by the doctors. Please, Evan, tell her everything about what happened to you. She’ll make sure you’re cared for and get you home.”

Nicole turned to go. She knew she’d have to drop off Oscar at the vet to get him checked out before they would call the parents to pick him up. She was so tired. She still had to get home, change, and get back to town to Shorty’s to meet Wynonna, Doc, and Waverly. With relief, she thought, it’ll be good to relax and have a drink.

 

When Nicole got to Shorty’s, the gang was not there yet. She walked up to the bar and ordered two tequila shots to warm her up and take the edge off the day. Normally, she was not one to imbibe except for a couple of beers, but today had been long, and she moved her neck from side to side to relieve some of the tension that had built up inside. She downed the shots one after the other, squinting as her esophagus burned smoothly under the tequila. She looked to the back of the bar to see how many and who was there. She thought about grabbing a table in the back so that she could keep her eye on the rest of the bar, an old police technique. She was never really quite off the job.

Suddenly, behind her, she felt the delicate touch of small hands on her back, rubbing her shoulders, and caressing her waist at the bar stool – Waverly! She turned, and Waverly kissed her full on the mouth, closing her eyes to savor the moment. 

Nicole didn’t even care that they were in public. She was so happy to be with her girlfriend. “Hey, I’m so happy to see you!” she beamed. “How has your day been?”  
Waverly was followed into the bar by Wynonna and Doc. It was Wynonna who answered, “She’s been playing Dora the Explorer, excavating her files for clues to the widows’ background, so her day has been extra peachy!” Doc smiled and sidled up to the bar to order.

“Whiskey for me, Doc!” Wynona called out, and Doc ordered some “Whistling Pig” whiskey for himself and Wynonna and a pitcher of lager for the other women. “Ladies, I will be happy to serve you at a table. Be right there.”

Wynonna, Waverly, and Nicole walked back to the back of the bar, near the pool tables, and grabbed a comfy spot. 

After a couple of beers and a game of pool, they sat at the small table in the shadows at the back end of Shorty’s. Nicole’s knee was almost touching Waverly’s bare leg next to hers. Waverly chatted excitedly with Henry and Wynonna about her research into the widows, but Nicole concentrated only on Waverly’s voice; like bubbles in the air, her voice always made Nicole feel lighter. The melodic quality of her voice was so comforting.

Nicole’s fingers wandered over and rested on Waverly’s thigh. She loved the feeling of the firm yet silky skin of Waverly’s thighs. Waverly didn’t seem to notice or care that Nicole’s hand was there, under the table.

Just feeling Waverly’s skin brought endorphins running through Nicole’s veins. Her stomach contracted as if someone had poked her in the gut. She imagined leaning over, moving Waverly’s hair aside, and kissing her on the neck under and behind her ear, sucking on her skin to leave a mark. She’d work her way around to the front of her throat, lightly caressing her with kisses. She closed her eyes and imagined kissing her on the tip of her nose and then the lips, those smooth lips. She’d reach inside her mouth with her tongue, exploring, connecting.

She tilted her head to the side when suddenly she was shaken from her vision. Waverly’s hand was on hers and she heard her say, “Nicole!”

“Uh, yeah!” Nicole opened her eyes, looked at Waverly with eyebrows raised in surprise.

Waverly asked, “are you ok?” “Sleepy?”

“No, I’m sorry, I was just resting my eyes for a second.” 

“Tomorrow,” asked Waverly, “can you help me follow this lead into finding where ‘Mercedes’ and her sister went?”

“Yes, of course,” responded Nicole. Nicole did not relish running into faux-Mercedes again after almost losing her life to her, but she didn’t want Waverly attempting to find them alone.  
“I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Nicole said. Waverly gleamed at her, and Nicole already knew tomorrow would be a better day because she’d be with her girl.

Wynonna glanced at Nicole with a look that Nicole knew all too well by now. The you’d-better-watch-out-for-my-sister-I’m-counting-on-you, Haught look.

Doc appeared worried. He didn’t like the idea that these witches might be joining forces with Bobo Del Ray to wreak havoc on the town and threaten Wynonna with unleashing Demon Clootie or “Bulshar.” If they succeeded, he did not know how they would be able to defeat their powers. He looked at Wynonna and sucked in his upper lip, forcing his bushy mustache to bristle. “I believe I am going to bid you ladies goodnight. We need sleep if we are to be ready for the likes of these revenants and witches.”

“Yeah. Ok, Waverly?” Wynonna asked her, “will you drive us back to the homestead?” Of the three of them, Waverly had had little to drink and, thus, was their designated driver.

Nicole leaned over and kissed Waverly lightly on the lips and smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow, early.”

Waverly kissed her back, “I’ll be ready.” With that, they all rose and walked out the front door of Shorty’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where to go from here, but I appreciate any constructive feedback you have to offer. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
